Alex stood and pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped his thumbs on the screen and then held the cell to his ear. “You still patrolling Bree’s house? Good. I’m gonna leave a package for you on her back porch. Get rid of it.”
Package? Her brows lifted.
He ended the call, pocketed his phone, and then effortlessly lugged Mateo out of the room like the guy weighed no more than a cocker spaniel. Not once did Alex look at Bree.
She didn’t move. She just stayed in the middle of her living room, wondering if it was wrong that she’d gotten some satisfaction out of watching Mateo be pounded into unconsciousness. Probably.
She heard the back door open, and then there was a heavy thud. Alex rumbled something to who she presumed was one of the enforcers. The back door slammed shut. Her heart jumped and then kicked into high gear, because now he’d be coming for her. And she’d sensed that he was almost as pissed with her as he was with Mateo.
Alex stalked into the room, his body still stiff with tension, his dark eyes now laser-focused on her. Yes, he was fuming.
She felt no fear, sure to her soul he’d never harm her. That didn’t stop her hackles from rising when he ate up her personal space and planted his feet wide. But she wouldn’t back up, wouldn’t give ground—that wasn’t who she was.
“So, let me get this straight,” said Alex, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Someone tried to force their claim on you … and you thought, hey, I’ll keep that to myself?”
Well, basically … “Yeah.”
His eyes flared. “Why the fuck would you let that go unpunished? Tell me you weren’t protecting him.”
Her cat bared a fang, not liking his tone at all. “He was a good friend to me once.”
“You owe that shithead nothing, Bree. He violated your trust. He betrayed your friendship. He spitefully tried to punish you just because you didn’t feel for him what he did for you. Why show him any mercy?”
“I didn’t see it. I didn’t see that he cared that much. I should have.”
Alex frowned. “What difference would it have made if you had seen it? There’s nothing you could have done that would’ve changed how he felt when you rejected him.”
“But I could have talked to him. I could have let him down gently. Then we wouldn’t have fought like that.”
“Who says he’d have reacted any differently to you letting him down gently? A rejection is a rejection, Bree. It’s always gonna sting. Mateo cares for you so, yeah, it must have hurt him a fuck of a lot. But that doesn’t excuse how he acted. He should have manned up and apologized for misreading the situation, not turned on you out of wounded pride.”
“I know but—”
“But nothing. You don’t owe mercy. With that one shitty act, he negated every good thing he ever did for you. He didn’t pull that stunt because he was hurting. He did it because he’s a weak little prick who couldn’t handle rejection. That’s not your shit to own. It’s his. And I’m not going to let you take on blame that isn’t yours to bear.”
Her spine snapped straight. He wouldn’t let her? She fisted her hands. “Careful, Alex. It’s been a real bitch of a day.” A day in which she’d maddeningly been drugged, kidnapped, and forced to watch as the man she cared for was shot repeatedly. “I’m not in the mood to deal with this bullshit on top of all that.”
His brow flicked up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So stop growling at me.”
“I’ll stop damn growling when you acknowledge that the blame belongs to Mateo.”
She lifted her chin. “You’ll stop growling at me because I told you to stop.”
“Acknowledge it, Bree.”
“Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on, Alex.”
He towered over her. “Acknowledge it.”
“I’m done here.” She jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out of my house.”
His hand snapped around her throat and held her tight. “Acknowledge. It.”
Indignation burned through her at the dominant move. But so did a carnal hunger that made her nipples tighten and her pussy clench, because she was apparently totally messed up.
“Hear me, Bree. You belong to me. Every inch of you, inside and out. Nobody gets to blame you for shit you didn’t do—not even you. I won’t let you hurt like that. No way. So damn well concede that all the blame lies with him.”
She should have ordered Alex to let her go and cease bossing her around, even if he did mean well by it. But she heard herself say, “Or what?”
“Or I’ll fuck the concession right out of you.”
She sucked in a breath, and her pulse quickened. God, she wanted to feel him moving inside her. Wanted that reassurance that he was healed and healthy and no longer pumped with bullets. She’d thought he’d die right in front of her; she’d thought she’d lose him for sure. And despite that he was alive, an ice-cold fear still clung to her.
She watched as his pupils swallowed the color of his eyes. He could no doubt scent what she wanted—she could scent it lacing the air between them.
“Concede it, Bree,” he ordered, his voice thick with an arousal that called to her own. His hold on her throat tightened. “Now.”
More damp heat slickened her inner walls. “Eat shit, asshole.”
Growling, he swooped down and claimed her mouth, boldly sweeping his tongue inside. Her entire body just … ignited. It sparked to life as a raw, flaming-hot need rushed through her veins. They both instantly caught fire.
Backing her into the wall, Alex tore her tee right down the middle and roughly squeezed her bare breast in a move that was nothing short of possessive. “Want in you.”
He clawed off her shorts. She shed her ripped tee. He snapped off her panties. She unbuttoned his fly. Two fingers thrust inside her, checking she was ready.
“Fuck, this is going to be fast.” Without preamble, Alex hoisted her up, positioned her just right, and mercilessly dropped her on his cock.
Stuffed full of his long, thick shaft, she froze for a second. He didn’t. No, he fucked in and out of her body like he owned it, his large hands gripping her ass. All she could do was lock her limbs around him and enjoy the ride. A ride that was raw and rough and desperate.
She thought he’d tease and tantalize her in a bid to get the concession he wanted, but he was just as swept away by sensation as she was. He took her brutally, as if he couldn’t get enough; as if he couldn’t get deep enough. And she loved every damn second of it.
Alex scraped his sharp teeth over her neck hard enough to score the skin, satisfied by the red marks on her flesh. “Such a perfect pussy. Hot. Slick. Tight. Mine.”
Feeling her nails prick his nape hard enough to draw blood made his dick impossibly harder. But what really twisted his gut was the way those sex-crazed eyes boldly met his, hiding nothing from him.
Each time she’d pointblank refused to acknowledge his point, her defiance had pricked at the anger still fresh in his system—anger that someone had tried to take her from him; anger that he’d almost gotten to her too late to save her. But her defiance had also shot to his cock, making it thick and heavy. Then he’d smelled her need, and he’d known there was no way he’d be able to hold back. He’d known he couldn’t fight the basic need to take and fuck and assure himself that she was safe and with him.